Entertainment Value
by kyotoagnes
Summary: Canada was quite happy with his virginity until Germany & Prussia's unusual relationship catches his imagination & interest. A Germany x Prussia x Canada fic with implied Russia x America
1. Chapter 1

Title: Entertainment Value

Author: Kyotoagnes

Pairing: None really. Implied Russia x USA, Canada x Canada's vivid imagination

Summary: Canada was quite happy with his virginity until Germany & Prussia's unusual relationship catches his imagination & interest.

Rating: M overall

Warnings: Threesome

Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, Studio Deen and Gentosha Comics may they continue to put out more pretty boys for me to use in a purely not for profit way of course.

Chapter One: Entertainment Value: Canada has some strange ideas of fun.

Many never noticed Canada but he noticed plenty. It wasn't as if he was attending meetings and conferences for the chance to provide input. No, these days he came for the entertainment. Canada watched as Russia drifted into the room. He didn't notice Canada at all. He slapped down a succession of folders and smiled his fierce feral smile, violet eyes positively merry. Ooh someone was in trouble and Canada knew just who. Only one person prompted focused sanity and that particular smile.

The door to the conference room banged open and America grinned at everyone in the conference room.

"Heys guys". His eyes fell on the folders in front of Russia and his grin grew even wider until he hid it behind his hamburger. Canada hid his own smile in Kumajirou's fur. Oh yes today's meeting would be a good one.

Canada heard Prussia before he saw him.

"Seriously its idiotic to have them and not use them, thats what bombs are for."

Canada straightened his hand going still on Kumajirou's fur as Germany strode into the room followed by Prussia who was waving an active hand. Germany had a small twitch in his right eye and the meeting hadn't even started. He sat down at the table meticulously peeling off skin tight gloves. Prussia flopped down next to him a tangle of limbs held together by energetic personality. Canada averted his eyes away quickly before he began staring. Lately he had found himself noticing Germany and Prussia more and more. Technically Prussia didn't have to be there but he still came mostly to find someone to irritate and to support Germany with a side occupation of bedeviling him. Oddly enough Canada had noticed the bedeviling was not occurring as per usual. No one would notice really except for Canada who'd been paying attention to the two brothers since three meetings ago.

That meeting had been a particularly contentious. Prussia had been on his feet leaning over the conference table about to explode, but then so had Russia and America. Only Canada had noticed Ludwig lay a single gloved hand on Prussia's neck and Prussia had stopped, simply stopped and sat back down. Now the image lingered in Canada's mind, Ludwig's black leather gloved hand on Prussia's pale white neck.

Canada jerked slightly as Russia slammed a fist down on the table and America bolted up to confront him. It was eerily reminiscent of the Cold War except both of them were smiling, teeth bared and the edge that had filled the room during those days was gone. Now it was just entertainment. Well at least for everyone else. Canada had come to realize that for America and Russia it was foreplay. They were feeling pretty feisty today the floor show would probably be pretty good.

Six hours later Canada gathered up Kumajirou and departed towards his hotel room. Prussia had long since bolted, Germany was deep in conversation with France. Russia had stormed out followed by America yelling after him. The show was over for the day. He was vaguely disappointed that he hadn't witnessed another fit of Prussia's rage and Germany's correction. Leaning against the elevator wall Canada reflected that perhaps he'd become a bit, well obsessed. But he couldn't help it, the image lingered, leather on white skin. His sudden fixation had come as a shock to him. He was four hundred and sixty four years old, for the love of God. He'd spent his formative years watching France and England fight over he and Alfred. Then Alfred had gone completely against Arthur. He'd watched Alfred offer himself up to other Nations eager for acknowledgement only to be used or turned away. That open smile became hollow to at least to Matthew's knowing eyes. Alfred had stopped playing at love and entanglement and simply settled for hero and busybody. Watching the consequences of love and affairs between Nations was enough to relegate his interest to a purely intellectual appreciation. Now though it had become something more and something arousing. He keyed open his suite and watched Kumajirou waddle off. Kumajirou had gotten used to his new routine at these meetings by now. Every hotel always left him a bottle of wine every time he stayed. Before, ever frugal, he'd pack it up and give it away sooner or later. It was rude not to take it. Now, well he usually had one drink at least.

Matthew shed his jacket, laying it on the sofa. He scooped up the wine and the glass making his way to his bedroom. Carefully he locked the door, need ironically making his hands very steady. He poured himself a full glass, the glass cold in his hands as he meandered to the window. He keyed the shades and took his first sip. The wine was tart on his tongue, he closed his eyes, kicking off his shoes. It was amazing how he felt so aroused, his senses so on edge like never before, not even when he was a teenager. He took another swallow of wine and lay back sliding his hand up his shirt front shivering at the rawness of sensation even through his shirt. He fumbled slightly with the first button but his fingers were steady when he undid the rest. He closed his eyes as he unbuttoned his pants and let himself imagine.

_The leather would be soft as it traced over his lips._ Matthew moaned as his fingers closed over his cock, the first slide of his hand making nerves ignite. He could almost taste the leather, feel the pressure on his face as Ludwig forced his chin up. _But its Gilbert whose mouth takes his and Gilbert's laughter he hears. No one speaks not even him, he just moans_, moans as his other hand strokes across a nipple. On his bed Matthew writhed his hand on his cock moving faster precum making it easier not, that he's not in any place to notice. A_ll he can feel is the slide of leather on his skin as it strokes down his neck..._ he comes with a sharp hiss just as that hand closes over his neck gentle but firm.

For a while he simply lay there feeling the distant echoes of orgasm and fantasy settle. Finally he sat up on one elbow licking his hand clean before reaching for his wine. It was a nice fantasy the first truly detailed one he'd ever really had but that was all it could ever be, fantasy. He was the one who did the noticing, they never noticed him at all. He'd settle for that, well, he smiled into his wine glass, that and good wine.


	2. Chapter 2: Blue Ruin

Chapter Two:Blue Ruin: England observes and decides he needs a drink.

England loved to drink, he never settled for generic rotgut. No there was an art form to alcohol and a particular type for every occasion. Rum was blood, gunpowder and victory on the wind. Brandy was mind dulling diplomacy. Whiskey, anger and frustration. But gin, well gin was medication. He drank it on the fourth of July and when he really needed it. Sitting down at the conference table across from Spain and France he wondered if he was going to need it tonight.

Russia was smiling that cheerful mayhem born smile and kept glancing at his folders. America was sucking nosily on his drinking straw and smirking to himself, actually not to himself England realized, at Russia. As he opened his own folders England tried to decide if he should start a betting pool. Someone between those two was going to end up starkers, handcuffed to a headboard and having a good time in spite of themselves. He'd lay bets it would be America with the handcuff keys. Really some of the older nations didn't give the boy enough credit. It took a backbone of solid steel to play hero for over two hundred years despite failures and open scorn. Alfred still kept trying and as bloody annoying as it was at times England took pride in that steel.

He watched America taunt Russia for a moment longer until he felt eyes on him. He glanced across the table and found France staring at him. He arched an eyebrow and France winked back turning his head to whisper to Spain. Those two were awfully cozy lately. At one time the sight of those two in conference or just the rumor of an alliance would be enough to have him checking his supply routes and hoisting his own flags. Now he'd just wait, whatever those two idiots were planning would show up sooner or later. He glanced at Canada who was staring at the conference table, silent as always, unnoticed. Really him being a father figure had been a lousy idea. He had one nation son playing _anything you can do I can do better_ with Russia and another giving off the 'you don't see me" vibe unconsciously or not. At least he could take some satisfaction that neither of them had inherited France's penchant for exhibitionism.

He caught Canada's sudden shift in gaze by pure chance. He followed it across the table to...oh hell no. It couldn't be, just a fluke, it had to be. Over the next hour he watched Canada's gaze flicker back to Germany and Prussia over and over. It wasn't a fluke God dammit. He looked up again distracted from Canada watching to find Spain watching him this time. Though it was juvenile and quite possibly cruel, oh hell it was cruel, England met his eyes and let a bit of the old days shine through when his flags had run high and Spain had just run. Spain paled and swallowed hard. Then Russia slammed his fist down and everyone was distracted. Not nearly enough of course. Over the next six hours England kept watching as Canada's eyes kept shifting back to study both of the Germans. And it was both of them Arthur had come to realize. Canada, his Matthew was contemplating Germans! Not just one, but two of them. Then he saw Prussia's gaze flicker in Canada's direction. Oh for God's sake. It seemed as if the last half hour dragged on and on then it was over. Russia stalking out all rage and offended dignity, followed by America looking extremely cheerful. France slapped Spain on the shoulder and strode over to speak to Germany. Canada gathered up his bear and meandered away. For a brief moment England contemplated putting his head on the conference table and sobbing, but he did have some modicum of dignity left. No parenting skills apparently but dignity still the same. Precisely Arthur stacked his files, then he just shoved them in his briefcase. Definitely gin and bollocks on the hangover. He strode out of the conference room brushing past France and Spain. He was so focused on finding the nearest liquor store he never even realized France and Spain were staring after him and it wasn't old animosity on their faces either.


End file.
